


love is not a victory march

by kay_emm_gee



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 13:03:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15486369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_emm_gee/pseuds/kay_emm_gee
Summary: “You left him to die.”Clarke did not look at Murphy, just stared into the candlelit darkness of the room that had been her home for six years. Her home, and Madi’s. They had won it back, but at almost too high a cost. So many casualties, so much blood on the valley floor. Heaven, turned hell, and no way to make it clean again.{ in which Clarke hears some hard truths, and Murphy learns a heartbreaking one }





	love is not a victory march

**Author's Note:**

> feelin’ some kinda way recently, the silver lining of which means i’m back on my angsty bellarke bullshit ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

“You left him to die.”

Clarke did not look at Murphy, just stared into the candlelit darkness of the room that had been her home for six years. Her home, and Madi’s. They had won it back, but at almost too high a cost. So many casualties, so much blood on the valley floor. Heaven, turned hell, and no way to make it clean again.

“I left him to save Madi.” She wasn’t surprised Bellamy had told the rest of them what had happened back at the bunker, but she was surprised at how much Murphy’s words stung.

“Seems like the hobbit is pretty capable of taking care of herself.”

Shooting him a glare, Clarke frowned. “She’s a kid. She shouldn’t have to.”

“ _We_  had to, and look at how well we turned out.” His grin was a sharp thing.

“She’s my family,” she snapped, voice razored to match his. “I put her first, just like Bellamy put  _his_  family first.”

“He’s annoying like that, isn’t he? Always doing the right thing.”

“You should be grateful, that someone is there to watch your back.”

Murphy scoffed. “Like he doesn’t have yours?”

“Not anymore.”

_She wasn’t his family, not anymore._

The silence was heavy, taut. It prickled against Clarke’s skin, as did Murphy’s sudden, piercing stare.

“A little lonely, Clarke?

She ground her teeth.

“Aw, don’t worry. Being stuck on the outside of that happy circle isn’t so bad, take it from me. Maybe you and I can even form our own little loners club.”

Clarke shot up out of her seat and strode towards the door. She was going to see Madi, to check on her mother, to make sure the battle hadn’t sent Diyoza into labor. Anywhere that wasn’t around Murphy and his venom. Her hand was on the doorknob when he spoke again.

“Losing you almost broke him.”

The anger in his voice was tempered by resentment. As if he didn’t want to be telling her this. As if it was her fault that he so very obviously cared that she understood what the last six years had done to the rest of them.

“He was a fucking  _mess_ , Clarke. For years. If I’m being real fuckin’ honest, I didn’t think he’d ever get over losing you. Then he and–well, he started putting himself back together, and fuck if that wasn’t worse to watch because I knew he hated it. He  _hated_  that he was starting to realize that one day, he just might get the hell over his guilt about your martyrdom. The others ignored it, because he was smiling again, but I saw it. It’s what I do best, seeing the cracks and weak points and providing leverage. And his fault lines, they were a mile-fuckin-wide when it comes to you. Still are, actually.”

Eyes stinging and chest aching, she had to fight through the thick anger clogging her throat to get her reply out. “Point, Murphy?”

“He never stopped loving you, and you left him to die.”

Her hand balled into a fist, but her feet wouldn’t move. She half-turned her head, seeing Murphy through the blur of her tears. “I know.”

The words were hard, hateful. Murphy stared at her for a beat, cocked his head. Then his eyes went wide.

“Damn,” he whispered, knowingly. “ _Damn,_ you both are a fuckin’ piece of work _._ ”

And then Clarke fled, because it was too much. He had said it himself: finding chinks in armor was his specialty, and tonight, in that room where she had used to feel so safe, he had seen right through her. He had seen her own fault lines, had discovered they ran in mirror-image parallel to others he had seen.

Murphy had said losing her had almost broken Bellamy, but now he also knew that finding him again had broken Clarke.


End file.
